To an Island Princess

By

Since long ago, a child at home,I read and longed to rise and roam,Where'er I went, whate'er I willed,One promised land my fancy filled.Hence the long roads my home I made;Tossed much in ships; have often laidBelow the uncurtained sky my head,Rain-deluged and wind-buffeted:And many a thousand hills I crossedAnd corners turned - Love's labour lost,Till, Lady, to your isle of sunI came, not hoping; and, like oneSnatched out of blindness, rubbed my eyes,And hailed my promised land with cries.

Yes, Lady, here I was at last;Here found I all I had forecast:The long roll of the sapphire seaThat keeps the land's virginity;The stalwart giants of the woodLaden with toys and flowers and food;The precious forest pouring outTo compass the whole town about;The town itself with streets of lawn,Loved of the moon, blessed by the dawn,Where the brown children all the dayKeep up a ceaseless noise of play,Play in the sun, play in the rain,Nor ever quarrel or complain; -And late at night, in the woods of fruit,Hark! do you hear the passing flute?

I threw one look to either hand,And knew I was in Fairyland.And yet one point of being soI lacked. For, Lady (as you know),Whoever by his might of hand,Won entrance into Fairyland,Found always with admiring eyesA Fairy princess kind and wise.It was not long I waited; soonUpon my threshold, in broad noon,Gracious and helpful, wise and good,The Fairy Princess Moe stood.

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